After A Long Breath Poems

Pure chaos

The river’s voice

Echoed through light green-gauzed 

Falls to rest

Among a fern and bluebell down,

So seeing the circle as a sphere.

So many paths

Flowing into the one -

In the hand

A depth of weight-

A new tea bowl!

From the hillside

Shape-shifting as darkening gloom

The pigeon’s mourning stained call-

The river cutting ever deeper the valley,

Night after day.

Leaving past the church

Taking on the steep rise out of Widecombe

Into wind and sky.

The abode of skylarks

& 

Space between places.

Release

Falling backwards into landscape

The unravelling river,

Edges emerging between light and shade

In the dance

Not of it.

Release.